


Anger Management

by jumblebumps



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First attempt at smut, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Vaginal Fingering, i'm legit terrified but i'm posting this anyway, plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:32:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumblebumps/pseuds/jumblebumps
Summary: As far as everyone else is concerned, Angela has an excellent handle on her temper. She intends to keep it that way, nevermind that Overwatch is falling apart around her. But when you bottle up all your negative emotions, you need some way to let off steam eventually.





	Anger Management

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, this is my first attempt at writing smut. I got bored. Please be nice-ish? D:
> 
> Also, in response to one of my beta readers, this does take place during Moira's Blackwatch days. If you look at the Blackwatch skin, her fingernails are actually normal human length on her left hand. In general, her left nails look shorter than the ones on her right hand. Probably to make her bio-draining hand look more clawlike or something, but I kind of headcanoned that she's left handed and keeps those nails shorter in general? Maybe she lets them grow out when she's not actively seeing someone?

Anger didn't suit her. It twisted her features and pushed her towards questionable decisions with repercussions she was never quite prepared to deal with. Luckily, after years of effort, it took a great deal for Angela to actually show her anger. She had to maintain her professional demeanor at all costs. If she couldn't smooth the negativity away, she bottled it up. The others--her colleagues, her friends--nicknamed her “Mercy,” jokingly called her an angel. She feared that if she slipped and lost control, however briefly, they would think less of her. No, it was absolutely imperative she do whatever she needed to keep them from seeing the ugly side of herself.

In instances where she couldn't bottle it all up anymore, she sought out Moira. Instances like now, where Overwatch was crumbling around her, with so many people questioning them and  _ her _ and their work-- _ her _ work. It was all too much, sending her crashing through the science wing like a whirlwind to get to the secret spaces she wasn't supposed to know about, where Blackwatch kept their damaging secrets hidden. When she finally arrived in Moira's office, her frustration hadn't faded like it usually did. The excess of barriers keeping her from her destination just served to rile her up further rather than distracting her. She slammed the final door open, allowing the heavy wood to fall shut on its own behind her and stood there huffing while Moira coolly ignored her to focus on the papers on her desk.

“Angela,” the redhead observed without looking up. She didn't have to. Angela was the only one with the permission to barge in uninvited. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“Give me the key.”

Mismatched eyes rolled up to look at Angela without Moira moving her head. “Oh? And what for?”

With a huff, Angela slammed her hands down on the desk in front of Moira to send papers scattering, glaring her in the eye. She knew damn well what for.

“Mercy, dear, I was reading those,” Moira tutted teasingly, knowing the play on Angela's nickname would grate on her already frayed nerves. She finally lifted her head, running those long fingers through her hair as she looked down her nose at Angela. “Have a bad day, did we?”

“Key.”

“You wouldn't rather talk about it?”

“Would  _ you _ rather I just talked about it?”

“Fair enough,” Moira chuckled, removing the key to her office door from her pocket with frustrating slowness. She benefited from this arrangement too much to seriously question Angela.

Angela took the key and turned to lock the door as Moira stood, stretching languidly, one shoulder cracking a little. “Have you been watching the news again?” she asked, loosening her tie. “I've told you, you should ignore what those cretins say.”

As if her job wasn't also on the line. As if what people were talking about--disbanding Overwatch entirely--wouldn’t turn her entire life and career upside down, too. As if they weren't in the exact same sinking boat, only she was sitting back to calmly watch as Angela tried to bail the water out.

“I'm not here to talk, you know that.” Angela turned back around to grasp Moira’s tie, pulling her down a little as she slipped the key back into the pocket it came from. God damn, why was she so  _ tall _ ?

“Mm, you don't seem to be doing much else, though,” Moira hummed, smirking as she met Angela's furious gaze. Her hands slipped into her trouser pockets. This was just a game for her, Angela told herself, an amusing diversion. There was no real investment in whatever this was.

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

“I thought you'd never ask, darling,” Moira’s voice dropped to a smokey hum as she removed her hands from her pockets to grip Angela's hips, crashing their lips together.

It was never gentle, that was never what Angela sought her out for. It was need and fury and sex and nothing else. They both drove the kiss further, deeper, til their teeth clicked together before nipping at the other's bottom lip and tongues chased each other back and forth. A soft moan escaped Angela's throat and she pulled harder at the tie as Moira dug her nails almost painfully into her hips. After a moment, Moira stepped backwards, pulling Angela with her until she fell back into her desk chair with Angela straddling her legs. Her long fingers kneaded at Angela's hips, catching on the belt loops to tug playfully.

“So pretty,” Moira hummed, almost breathless by the time she broke the kiss. “Always so pretty.” She planted her sharp lips on the corner of Angela's mouth, ignoring the younger woman's attempt to tilt her head and reconnect the kiss, instead lightly mouthing her way up to the corner of Angela's jaw, then down to the side of her neck. Appeased, Angela moaned softly again and tilted her head to allow Moira better access. She wrapped Moira’s tie around her fingers, gripping it like a handle as if to keep her close.

One of Moira’s hands left her hip, reaching up to nimbly release the buttons of Angela's blouse so she could slide the shirt down her shoulder, exposing her neck more effectively. The motion reminded Angela of Moira’s own clothes and she untwisted her fingers from the tie to loosen it completely and discarded it on the floor. Her own fingers were less graceful, fumbling a little with Moira’s shirt buttons until she acquiesced to using both hands instead of just the one as Moira pushed her own shirt back off her shoulders so it hung about her elbows.

“I want to bite you,” Moira’s voice tickled Angela's ear and made her shudder. “May I?” When Angela nodded, Moira sank her teeth into the delicate skin of her collarbone, drawing out more moans as she pressed just hard enough to leave a momentary mark. When Moira rubbed her tongue over it, Angela shivered. The attention encouraged her to allow her shirt to slide off her arms and onto the floor before she pushed Moira’s back and off her shoulders. Without further prompting, the older woman allowed the garment to slide onto the ground as well, timing it with a sucking bite at Angela's shoulder that made her hiss.

“Moira!”

“Mm, afraid of marks?” Moira paused to kiss the bruising flesh gently. “Relax, little dove, I won't mar your plumage.” She paused to bite down again briefly. “Not where anyone can see.”

Angela glared, a rebuke on her tongue, but was silenced by Moira pulling her back into a rough kiss. Instead, Angela wrapped her arms around Moira’s neck, snaking her hands up the back of her head to run fingers through her hair before gripping tight. Surprised, Moira let out a little gasp and Angela practically glowed in satisfaction, pausing the kiss to nip and pull at Moira’s lip.

“That's a nice sound,” she purred, but Moira only chuckled.

“You are learning, my dear. But,” her head ducked down to bite on a sensitive part of Angela's neck, eliciting a high pitched intake of breath, “do not taunt the master.”

“Is that what you are?” Angela tried for unimpressed, but was far too breathless to pull that off.

“Mmhmm. You disagree?” Moira’s hands began working their way up Angela's sides, running across her skin slowly enough to almost tickle.

“I think you’re too full of yourself.”

“Ah, but what about when it's true?” Thumbs smoothed across Angela's chest, caressing her gently through her bra for a moment. “The phrase implies false egotism. I am  _ well _ aware of capabilities. I thought you agreed?” Moira punctuated the question by pinching Angela's nipples, earning her another gasp. “You are  _ so easy _ to play with, I love it.”

Angela flushed brighter at the sing-song tone of Moira’s comment and turned her face away, inexplicably embarrassed. As if she didn't notice, Moira reached back to undo the clasp of Angela's bra, sliding it off her arms and dropping it to the floor. She might have heard Moira murmur something, but stopped paying too much attention when she leaned down to catch one of Angela's nipples in her teeth. The blonde hissed and grasped Moira’s hair as she continued to tease her with nips and furtive flicks of her tongue. She barely noticed Moira edging the rolling chair forward until her back bumped into the desk and suddenly she was pushed back onto it with Moira standing over her.

“I must say, I do like this look on you,” Moira chuckled. When Angela blushed--why did she keep doing that?--Moira just leaned down to offer a kiss as her fingers flicked open the clasp on Angela's slacks. Angela barely remembered to reach up to undo Moira’s bra as her pants were slid down her hips and discarded. She felt Moira grin against her lips before the contact was suddenly removed, only to be replaced by a firm hand between her legs that made her arch and gasp.

“There's my good girl,” Moira hummed. “Already so excited for me.” She rubbed Angela through the fabric of her panties so that she squirmed and gripped the edge of the desk.

“Y-you talk too much.”

“Ah, but you like it.” Moira rolled her wrist against her, making Angela moan. “I know you do. You shouldn't try to lie to me when you're like this.” She pinched Angela's clit and rolled it between her fingers, but backed off some when the other woman squeaked and tensed. “You're so wet for me already, I can tell. How about I make you work for it, hm?”

“Wha--haa!--what do you want?”

Moira stopped touching her and took a step back. “On your knees.”

Angela obeyed, sliding slowly onto the floor and looking up at Moira, tall and shirtless and rather commanding from this angle for some reason. Smirking, Moira went to undo her belt and Angela reached up to help her remove her pants and underwear, fingers pausing to lightly trace the neatly manicured patch of red hair Moira had before the woman sat back into her desk chair, spreading her legs as she did so.

“Show me how much you want me, little dove.”

Angela needed no further encouragement. She sat up on her knees and leaned in to gently kiss the inside of Moira’s thigh, slowly trailing kisses up. Moira stiffened slightly and ran one hand through Angela’s hair only to huff when she switched to kissing the inside of her other leg. Angela gave a slight smirk as she continued her teasing, despite the very real risk of having to pay for it later. When she got close again, she pressed another kiss to Moira’s pubic bone, close enough to where she wanted it to coax out a soft sound.

“Angela…” Moira warned. She didn’t much like teasing unless she was the one doing it.

“Sorry,” Angela purred, finally moving down to press her tongue to Moira’s clit. The contact made Moira moan and close her eyes briefly, fingers still carding through Angela’s hair. Angela purred and closed her eyes, too, focusing on the motions of her tongue. While Moira didn’t like teasing, she did appreciate being worked up, so Angela began with delicate licks to and around her clit, slowly increasing pressure and contact time as Moira’s breathing sped up. The fingers in her hair started to grip and pull the way she liked, drawing out a soft moan from her.  When she opened her eyes to glance at Moira’s face, the older woman’s cheeks were almost the same color as her hair and the flush was extending down onto her chest. Pleased, Angela gently sucked on Moira’s clit and was further rewarded with the sound of her breath hitching. She was almost infuriatingly quiet when someone was touching her, so any sound Angela could drag out from her was a victory.

After a moment, she returned to firm, slow licks, relishing the faint feeling of Moira’s pulse under her tongue when she landed on a blood vessel just right. The pulls on Angela’s hair told her how well she was doing, and when Moira pressed herself against her, it was the signal that she had  _ better not fucking stop, oh god…  _ Angela redoubled her efforts, licking hard and fast, big blue eyes looking up to watch Moira’s stoic face pinch as the pressure in her abdomen built to a peak. A little more, and Moira was biting her lip and trembling and then suddenly she went stiff, expression melting into ecstasy. Angela felt her clit twitching as her muscles clenched and released in slow, deep pulses. She kept up slow, gentle licks until she felt Moira melt back against the chair.

“Ooh, mercy me,” Moira sighed, releasing Angela’s hair to run a hand through her own. “You certainly are talented, doctor.”

Angela made a face at the teasing compliments, but it was difficult to be too irritated, given the circumstances. “I’m glad you agree.”

Moira grinned devilishly down at her. It was impossible to tell if she was disappointed that Angela hadn’t taken her bait. “Well, then,” she reached down to gently--almost lovingly--cup Angela’s cheek in her hand, “would you like some attention now, my little dove?” To Angela’s enthusiastic nod, Moira let go and leaned back in her chair, motioning with a finger.

Angela didn’t waste a moment hopping up into Moira’s lap, straddling her thighs and wrapping her arms around her neck. Moira rested her hands on Angela’s hips, gently gripping her with her nails, and pulled her into a kiss. The corners of her mouth quirked up into an amused smile when Angela moaned into it, hugging her tighter. Moira pulled Angela’s hips up a little higher into her lap as they deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long before they were back to their game of chasing each others’ tongues back and forth between their mouths, occasionally nipping at their partner’s lower lip. Distantly, Angela noted that the desk chair they were on was slowly inching toward the desk. She gripped Moira tighter and grinded their pelvises together, almost pleading. Moira responded with a soft tutting sound before moving her hands down to just behind Angela’s knees, standing, and leaning forward so that Angela was once again sprawled on her back across the desk.

“It’s funny how you keep ending up like this,” Moira said in mock wonderment.

“I wonder why,” Angela responded, trying for dry but not quite succeeding. Her breath was coming fast again to the point where she almost felt like she was gasping.

“What a mystery…” the scientist hummed into Angela’s ear, making her shiver. “Perhaps we could run some tests…”

“Wh-what kind of tests?” It wasn’t fair the way she could make her voice drop like that, all raspy and thick as syrup with that damned Irish brough. Maybe Moira had been right when she said Angela loved it when she talked too much, but she’d be damned if she let herself admit that.

“Ohh, I don’t know…” Angela felt a smooth fingerpad rub circles on the delicate skin of her abdomen, just above the waistband of her underwear. “Nothing I’d want to delegate to an intern. I want to make sure these are done  _ right _ , you know.”

“Of course.” She hated how her voice all but squeaked when Moira got her worked up like this.

Moira gave her another one of her devilish grins. She finally slipped Angela’s panties down her legs, tossing them aside before tracing her finger down Angela’s abdomen in lazy circles, careful not to catch her with her nails. She only stopped her downward path when she reached her lips. “Do you want to try my tests?”

Angela nodded.

“What was that?” Moira’s head notched below her chin, lips at her neck. “I can’t hear you, little bird,” she purred, pressing kisses to Angela’s neck. “I’ll need you to speak up.”

“Yes…”

“What was that, dove?”

“Yes!”

Moira snickered. “I thought so.”

Angela made a soft, squeaking sound in the back of her throat that definitely was not a whimper as Moira kept kissing her neck with her finger tantalizingly close to where Angela wanted it, but not close enough and, frustratingly, not moving. She moved her hips, trying to chase Moira’s touch only for the redhead to tut and adjust to keep holding back the direct contact.

“Not yet,” she murmured, nipping Angela’s collarbone lightly. “Patience, my dear.” When the younger woman wiggled under her teasing touch, she scraped her teeth against her skin and finally gave Angela the contact she wanted, pressing her index finger to her clit to rub it gently. The action pulled a moan from her, and Moira grinned. “There we are.” The only response Angela could manage as Moira started to rub in slow, delicate circles was to arch her back and whimper.

“Such pretty sounds,” Moira purred, mouth moving to kiss down Angela’s sternum while her finger continued.

It wasn’t until she kissed along a rib that Angela processed that Moira was moving downwards and spread her legs for her, arching more. Moira purred against her, hands moving to rub the insides of Angela’s thighs as she lowered to her knees. When she reached the ground, Moira pressed a kiss against her, slowly working in her lips then her tongue, humming when Angela arched her hips down towards her. She kept rubbing her hands along Angela’s thighs and periodically paused to knead at them with her thumbs.

Why was it so, so easy for Angela to come undone under Moira’s attentions? She trembled and reached down to grab fistfulls of short red hair as she moaned, not caring if anyone else who happened to be working late could hear her. That would be something to deal with later. Right now, she just wanted to focus on the pleasant sensations and ignore the rest of the world. Thankfully, Moira made it easy.

“Moira…” she moaned out when the scientist began using the flat of her tongue to give her hard, long licks. “Oh fuck…”

Moira hummed against her in acknowledgment, sending slight vibrations through her tongue. The longer nails on her right hand dug into Angela’s pale thigh slightly, not enough to hurt. In fact, it only elicited another shiver from the blonde. Moira moved her left hand closer to where her mouth worked. With delicate, barely-there touches she spread Angela’s lips with two fingers to get a better degree of contact. The slow licks sped up gradually, though she still made use of the wide part of her tongue. She soon achieved the effect she must have been looking for; Angela squirming under her, trying to pull her head closer like she needed more contact. Instead, Moira slipped a finger into her, crooking it to rub where she knew Angela’s sensitive spot to be.

It was hard not to squeeze her thighs around Moira’s head, but Angela did pull a bit harder on her hair. She was too worked up, wanted the attention and the release too badly, she could already feel pressure pooling in her gut. Moira’s tongue and finger brushed against her  _ just right _ and her hips bucked involuntarily. It was easy to imagine the look of self-satisfaction Moira might have given her if she could. As it was, she only added a second finger as she moved her hand faster. Angela clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry as Moira started to move her tongue in shorter flicks. Okay, so maybe she did care a little if someone caught them. She wasn’t so far gone as that.

“Moira,” she moaned shakily, “I-I’m close…”

Moira moaned against her in response, working her fingers and tongue harder. When Angela reflexively shied away, Moira moved her right hand to her hip to hold her in place, continuing her efforts until Angela felt the pressure peak. She tightened and twitched around Moira’s fingers, practically holding her breath until it broke and pleasure rolled over her in waves that lapped in time with Moira’s motions. Moira didn’t pull back, only slowing her motions until Angela relaxed, breathing heavily and moaning.

“Well,” Moira sounded very proud of herself as she pulled back from Angela, gently helping her untangle her fingers from her short hair so she could stand, leaning forwards and still in her spot between Angela’s legs. “Enjoy that?”

Angela nodded breathlessly, reaching for Moira’s wrist.

The redhead chuckled and gave her a fond look. “So pretty,” she cooed, smoothing Angela’s hair back gently with her clean hand. She didn’t seem surprised when Angela propped herself up on her elbows to kiss her, never minding her own taste on her lips. She only kissed her back, moving her hand to delicately rest on Angela’s cheek.

Several minutes later, both women collected their clothing to dress. Moira seemed largely unaffected, but Angela’s limbs felt sluggish and heavy. Her anger from earlier had dissipated and in its place was calm satisfaction and quiet thoughts that were interrupted when Moira spoke.

“Feeling better, my dear?” she asked as she buttoned her shirt, tie hung across her shoulders.

“Much, thank you.” Angela tried for businesslike nonchalance, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was successful.

“Wonderful,” Moira said brightly. She turned to cup Angela’s cheeks in her long fingers again and gave her an oddly gentle smile. “Really, I mean it, everything will be all right. Don’t worry about the rumors until they’re actually drafting the paperwork to disband us.” Her voice was a reassuring murmur and she smoothed her thumbs along Angela’s cheekbones.

For pity’s sake… This wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but Moira had this habit of acting like she cared for her past being friends and coworkers. Angela couldn’t afford… Especially not with someone whose work was in part  _ responsible _ for Overwatch’s current difficulties. If the ship did sink, Angela would have to rely on her professionalism to get herself afloat again. She absolutely couldn’t compromise that, not with so many eyes on their team.

And yet… 

Angela sighed and leaned a little into Moira, putting a hand over one of hers. “Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said sincerely.

Moira smiled and gave her a light kiss. “Of course.”


End file.
